Girl In Black
by behind.my.bright.blue.eyes
Summary: The light of the helicopter, spinning dangerously close, slashed through the night like a spear. They thought they had me cornered. They thought wrong . . . Cameron Anne Morgan: The Deadly Girl In Black. One-shot.


**~Girl In Black**~

The wind whipped through my hair and chilled my bones, as I stood waiting on top of the tall building, scanning the horizon.

Me footsteps were silent as I sprinted for cover while ethe light of the helicopter, spinning dangerously close, slashed through the night like a spear.

They thought they had me cornered.

They thought wrong.

Immediately reacting, I shot a hook into the floor beneath me, and began to rappel down the side of the bulking skyscraper.

Just seconds later, my feet met with the pavement as I sprinted across the busy road and into the alley across the way.

But all of a sudden, I felt an arm grasp my shoulder and the cold metal of a gun barrel press against my forehead.

But I was too fast for him.

Taking in all my years of training, I grabbed the strong hand and flipped my attacker to the floor.

He lost all consciousness as his skull crashed against the pavement and I ripped the gun from his hands.

I needed an escape.

As I spotted a shiny black sports car down the road, I couldn't be more relieved as I hurriedly knocked out the driver- a napotine patch on his forehead- and revved the engine.

Flooring the gas pedal, I twisted and tuned around sharp corners, trying to lose the tail that now followed my every move- never missing a beat.

Clouded by dark glasses, I couldn't make out the face that continued to tail me- making this wild car chase seem like tea time with Madame Dabney.

And then, the shady figure pulled out a gun.

And it was pointing straight at me.

Ducking as low as I possibly could, without blocking my vision, we continued our rancid chase.

Bullets crashed though my windows, narrowly missing my face, which was twisted with disgust.

I pulled the gun out of my jacket.

Two could play that game.

I turned in my seat, watching the road from the corner of my eye.

And I shot my best fire.

But he wasn't stupid.

Quickly dodging the well aimed blow, he retorted swiftly, shattering my entire rear window, glass covering everything in sight.

My stomach did a back-flip as we sped through a small street fair, crashing through countless produce stands and fish markets, angry old men and women giving us the finger in our wake.

And I almost lost him, too.

But he was just too good.

Another bullet pierced through the neighboring headrest and I twisted around and shot another bullet.

But he ducked, once more.

The car vibrated as we continued to pass the bumpy surface of the towering bridge.

Hundreds of feet below, a dark river churned beneath us, swallowing anything it could possibly get its hands on.

He sped up.

And soon enough, his car was adjacent to mine.

Finally, he removed his glasses.

And his dark eyes burnt into mine as once again, he pointed his gun straight at me.

I had to take a chance.

Swerving like a maniac, I rammed into the tough railing that guarded the sides of the sturdy bridge.

Surrendering under the weight of the pleading car, the rails gave way as I drove off the side of the bridge, and began to make my perilous plunge into darkness.

For the minuscule amount of time when we were airborne, I suddenly felt like I could fly.

I floated above my seat, hands still gripped tightly on the now-rugged steering wheel.

And then we hit water.

Immediately filling up with the dark water, the river began to swallow up the vehicle, with me trapped inside.

But the door was locked.

And I couldn't think straight enough to unlock it.

Kicking out the window, shards of razor-sharp glass dug their way into my skin.

I struggled to find the surface, but no light had reached this deep, dark bottom- and I couldn't tell which was up or down.

The breath escaped my lips, as gallons of the freezing water plunged down my throat, but I continued to struggle for freedom.

My limbs began to grow heavy, and the water that now filled my lungs burnt my throat and stung my nose.

I felt a sharp pain in my head, and I heard a crack.

And now, nothing hurt at all.

Because my body was slowly sinking.

And then everything faded to black.

But I still couldn't seem to erase from my mind the image of the man- with the gun to my head.

Because when he had removed his dim glasses, I had recognized a face I had known and loved.

Because it was Zachary Goode who was trying to kill me.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: How was it? *evil grin***


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